Ravings of a Rabid Werewolf - Poetry by Wolf - 10. I Run

The feel of the pavement under my shoes,

And the salt air of the ocean breeze on my face;

As the steady cadence of my stride,

And the even breaths of rhythmic breathing,

Block out all but my focus on the next step.

With each foot that takes me forward,

The feet become yards that quickly turn into miles,

And those miles let the relentless sun beats down on me;

Burning away anxiety as it heats my bare skin to a glistening glow,

While the breeze cools my sweat covered body.

As I tire my hand reaches out for what’s missing at my side,

Hoping your fur will prove the empty void is but an illusion.

Your leash remains balled in my hand as a connection to you;

Yet I know you still run at my side in spirit if not physicality.

Your playful stride still encouraging me to keep going forward.